Pain. Neck pain. Shoulder and neck pain. Oh Merlin, the agony!
Harry awoke on his side with his head propped up on a padded wooden frame, his trousers and socks still on. His neck was screaming bloody murder and his mouth tasted terrible. A quick Scourgify took care of the mouth problem. But his neck still-
Wait a minute.
"Where am I?" he asked aloud. He sat up and whimpered in pain as he tried to move his neck. A framed photo on top of the highboy dresser showed a smiling Draco Malfoy standing in front of Angkor Wat in Cambodia. Oh right, now he remembered.
He squeezed his neck with both hands, hissing in pain as his right shoulder protested the movement. He must have slept in one position all night, with the pressure of his entire body weighing on his side. He rotated his shoulder and moaned again.
A soft tap at the door sat him up straight as he realized that he was naked from the waist up. "Uh," he checked the floor for his shirt but there was no sign of it. "Ow."
"Are you all right?" Draco called through the door.
"I'm fine. You can come in."
"I think we can safely say wine doesn't solve your antler problem," Draco pushed the door open and leaned in the doorway.
Harry realized his head felt warm and remembered the woolen cap. He tried to take it off but it was stitched around the base of the antlers. Draco touched his wand to the cap and it divided like his t-shirt had on his first visit. It was a handy charm.
"Thanks," Harry held the two halves of the hat in his hands and was too embarrassed to say anything else. He was self-conscious without his shirt. He remembered asking Draco what he thought of his body last night. Bloody wine.
"Does your neck hurt?" Draco asked. He was dressed in green flannel trousers and a gray muggle t-shirt. His hair was rumpled and he had a sprinkling of blond whiskers along his jaw. "You're holding your head at an angle."
"Yes," Harry tried to straighten up but it was too painful. He didn't want to appear weak. He wanted his shirt.
"I have something for that," Draco disappeared down the hall, and then a moment later he returned with a small jar.
"Right. Healer," Harry nodded.
"Turn to the side," Draco waved for Harry to rotate to the right, then he sat on the edge of the mattress behind him and dolloped a bit of the ointment on his deltoid muscle. "Tell me where it hurts."
"Merlin, right there," Harry gasped as Draco kneaded his fingers into a tight knot. He felt a second hand go to work and groaned as the ointment worked its magic and soaked into his aching muscle tissue, releasing the kinks and cramps.
"Does that help?" Draco's voice was right behind his ear. Both hands worked his shoulders and then moved up to his neck, where his thumbs ran from the base of his skull to his back along either side of his spinal column.
"Yes," Harry moaned. "It feels really good."
"This is a very effective potion," Draco's voice was soft and close. "It will ease your pain and it should prevent any additional strain for the next forty-eight hours. You can sleep any way you like and it won't hurt."
"Is that safe?" Harry asked, leaning gratefully into Draco's skilled Healer's hands. "Or is it just blocking the pain but still damaging the muscles?"
"I wouldn't prescribe something that would make your injuries worse."
"Point taken."
"Sit for a few minutes and let it soak in " Draco stopped suddenly and went to the door. "The loo is across the hall. I recommend washing the residue off rather than letting it stain your clothes." He scooped Harry's shirt off of the floor at the foot of the bed and handed it to him. And then he departed, feet padding down the stairs to the second floor.
Harry closed his eyes and sat, blessedly pain-free, and relaxed. He wondered what he should do next. Ideally he would head home and check in with Hermione to see if she'd had any more ideas. Maybe the mirror symbol from the Necromancer made sense now that she'd had time to think. But it was Wednesday and he had an appointment to be here anyway to try out Draco's potion idea. It probably made sense to just shower and go downstairs and see what Draco recommended. In his professional opinion.
The bathroom was as nicely appointed as the rest of the house, with marble countertops, inlaid tile floors, and deep, plush towels that were soft enough to sleep on. Harry unbuttoned his trousers and drop-kicked them across the floor, where they landed with a faint clink. Curious, he fished through his pockets and found the small cobalt blue phial of cure-all that the Necromancer had given him. He checked it to make sure it hadn't come unsealed and then crammed it back into his pocket.
He carefully climbed into the tub and drew the shower curtain closed, standing sideways as he did at home to reduce the risk of antler-damage. The hot spray was exquisite and the bath soap had the same musky, leathery, jasminey smell that he had caught a whiff of in Draco's hair.
He frowned. Why had he sniffed Draco's hair? It was the touching, of course. If he'd gotten a massage by a hunchback he would have sniffed the hunchback's hair. Which wasn't to say Draco wasn't attractive. He most certainly was. And his Healer's jacket was kind of sexy, the way he sometimes let it hang open, unbuttoned and loose. There were stranger things in the world than finding Draco Malfoy attractive, he decided.
And he wasn't really much of a prat anymore, was he? He'd joked at Harry's expense at his first appointment, but he was trying to maintain a sense of professionalism now. Maybe Hermione was right, maybe he had matured and that was all it had taken to turn him into a tolerable human being.
He wondered what he would be like once Harry's antler problem was cleared up. Would they stroll around Hogsmeade ever again?
Potter's New Pal: Malfoy Makeover?
Oh come on, that one hardly made sense.
He shut off the tap and turned around to grab a towel without thinking. Snag. Too late, he reared back to avoid tangling up in the shower curtain, and ended up snagging it worse, the pastel chevron fabric tore free of the rings and slapped wetly against his body, and when he recoiled he slipped, and his feet shot out from under him, and he hit the soap ledge with his elbow on the way down, and the sudden weight on the rest of the rings tore the curtain rod free from its bracket, and with an enormous clatter he fell in a heap with the curtain snarled around him and the rod teetering across his back.
Feet thudded up the stairs and the bathroom door flew open.
"Potter," Draco gasped. "What happened?"
"I got tangled up in the curtain," Harry said in dismay, his voice muffled by several layers of fabric. Bye bye, remaining shreds of dignity.
"You daft deer," Draco lifted the curtain rod free and knelt beside the tub to unwind the fabric from Harry's head and shoulders.
The filtered light brightened as the curtain was lifted from Harry's eyes. Once again Draco was close enough that he was within Harry's range of focus. The rest of the bathroom around them was fuzzy, set back from the small bubble of space where everything was clear.
"Where are you hurt?" Draco was saying, his gray eyes cloudy with concern. "Did you hit your head?"
"No," Harry shook his head. "My elbow."
Draco finished unwinding the shower curtain and tossed it away. Which meant Harry was now naked in front of him with nowhere to hide. He cupped his hand around his genitals and blushed furiously.
"Let me see," Draco lifted his arm, which meant he had to let go of his groin. His eyes flicked down once but then he lifted his chin and focused on Harry's elbow.
"I think I broke your soap dish," Harry said, all too aware that Draco was inside of his focal range, holding his arm, and within reach of his cock.
"You're lucky you didn't break your elbow," Draco tsked. He drew his wand and touched Harry's arm, and the pain simply evaporated. "Let me help you up."
Oh Merlin why? Harry nearly died of embarrassment as Draco slipped his arms around his naked body and raised him to his feet. Then he helped Harry step over the lip of the tub onto the fuzzy bathmat. And now Harry was pressed up against him, starkers, with his arms still wrapped around him.
Draco didn't pull away. Harry didn't either. They looked at each other with carefully composed expressions and said nothing. Harry unconsciously licked his lips and thought he might tip his head just a bit. Maybe. Maybe it was an okay idea. Maybe?
Draco's breath shuddered, just a tiny bit but still perceptible. Harry was certain he felt a wave of desire roll off of him and remembered that he had said Harry looked good last night. Clearly attraction wasn't an issue. Maybe he should just-
Draco stepped back and broke the embrace. He handed Harry a towel and said something about coffee on the stove. Then he left without another word.
Harry's knees buckled and he dropped to sit on the edge of the tub. He'd just walked away. Why had he walked away? Surely he'd felt something. He wasn't straight, no way in hell was that the touch of a straight man. So why had he walked away?
He dressed in yesterday's clothes and hung his towel over the rack, then went down to the kitchen. Upstairs he heard the master bedroom door open and the bathroom door close. A moment later the taps turned in the shower.
There were pastries on the table, so Harry helped himself. He wanted to pop home for a change of clothes and some time to think, but if the potion was ready he didn't want to leave without it.
Draco came back down the stairs a short while later, dressed in tan slacks and a green sweater vest with his Healer's jacket on top.
"Do I have time to pop home for a change?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Draco's demeanor was fully professional once again. "I'm heading down now to do the final step, then it needs to brew for one more hour."
"I'll be back in a bit, then," Harry said. He followed Draco down to the parlor, retrieved his invisibility cloak, and went outside to Disapparate. He didn't even wait to hear the locks rattle.
0oOo0
Hermione was on her way out so Harry walked with her beneath his invisibility cloak. She held a book in her hands and pretended she was reciting incantations when she spoke. Her first stop was Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour to pick up Christmas treats for the Weasley family.
"Oh no," Harry moaned with dismay from beneath his cloak as they stepped out of the Diagon Alley public Floo. "I just realized there's only a week until Christmas. If I can't get these things off my head-"
"You'll come to Christmas dinner anyway," Hermione cut him off. "They're your family, they'll accept you as you are."
"But not without teasing me royally," Harry said.
"Well that goes without saying."
"That's the part I'm saying oh no about." he said. "And think about how cluttered their house is. One sneeze and I could destroy an entire wall of keepsakes."
"You'll survive," she snorted.
They set off down the sidewalk, weaving in and out through the holiday crowds. Like Hogsmeade, the little shopping district was decked out in merriment, with wreaths and bells and boughs strung everywhere. Enchanted caroling books floated down the road in clusters, singing their own tunes in perfect harmony. Candles hovered in the air above the cobblestone road and the smell of cinnamon and baked goods wafted into every nook and cranny.
Harry felt desperately lonely.
He loved Christmas but this year the sense of having no one to celebrate with weighed heavily on him. Not that he usually had someone to celebrate with, he was frequently single during this time of year. But this year he felt an absence like he hadn't before.
"Have you had any thoughts about what the Necromancer said?" he asked, trying to shake off the melancholy.
"I have but none seem right," she said, staring down into her book and barely moving her lips. A street vendor pressed a paper sack of cinnamon roasted nuts into her hands and she tolerantly handed over a Knut. She passed one beneath the folds of Harry's cloak and popped another into her mouth.
"Try me," Harry poked her for another nut.
"The mirror with the deer," she said. "Maybe what he cast reflected your true self back to you."
"My true self is a ten-point stag?"
Perhaps," she said. "Your Patronus is a stag, it's your spirit animal."
"And yours is an otter," Harry pointed out. "Does that mean you're really an otter on the inside? You'd be happy turning into an otter?"
"Point taken," she glanced up and neatly sidestepped a display of enchanted dancing peppermint canes.
"You cast a Patronus when he cursed you," she said. "Maybe it reflected the shape back on you."
"That's not a bad thought," Harry admitted. "So why do the antlers keep growing back whenever they're removed?"
"I don't know," Hermione looked up at the Fortescue sign. "It's crowded in there," she said. "It might be better if you wait outside."
Harry agreed. He pressed himself against the wall of the shop and watched the throngs of holiday shoppers drifting by. He saw families and friends and couples strolling up and down the road and found himself zeroing in on the clasped hands between lovers. A sigh escaped his lips as the overwhelming sense of absence washed over him. He wanted to walk hand in hand down Diagon Alley.
"Done," Hermione appeared with her arms filled with packages. Harry wished he could help, but didn't see how he could carry anything while holding his cloak secure.
Maybe that's what it was. He was separate from everything, hidden beneath an invisibility cloak, so that he wasn't really a part of the holiday spirit. He was isolated and alone, and he feared he always would be.
"You're quiet," Hermione murmured as they made their way back to the Floo. "Has Malfoy given up on curing you?"
"No," Harry said. "I'm supposed to head over there in a bit to try another potion. But I'm not going to get my hopes up."
"He's really trying to help, then?"
"He is," Harry admitted. "He's not bad, actually. Very professional. Almost kind."
"I heard that."
"Heard what?"
"That tone in your voice," she said. "You're sweet on him."
"No I'm not," Harry protested. "I mean, yes if something happened I wouldn't stop it but that doesn't mean I'm sweet on him." They walked silently for a moment. "Besides, that would be daft because he's most definitely not sweet on me."
"Oh I get it," Hermione nodded.
"Get what?"
"Never you mind," she paused at the Floo. "So you're heading over there now?"
"I have to," Harry tried to harden his voice, to make it sound like there was nothing he'd rather do less.
"Have fun," she stepped into the fireplace and was whisked away.